Category Archives: Lifestyle

A Saskatchewan Fisherman reeled in the world’s biggest trout from Lake Diefenbaker earlier this week. There is debate over whether or not the 48 pound Rainbow Trout should actually be granted the World Record or not as there are skeptics out there who believe the fish was in fact genetically engineered to grow to an abnormal size. I just want to say…

WHO THE FUCK CARES?

The real story here is the smokin’ HOT Canadian fisherman. Yes, I said “HOT Canadian”. Oxymoron? Yes. Under all normal circumstances. But normal these are not, and this was no mistake.

Even with that stupid light on his head and fish guts all over his Columbia Sportswear, he’s still a 10. Perhaps he was the one genetically engineered. Perhaps the Canadians have been genetically engineering the world’s hottest guys for years, hiding them in their backwoods territories, waiting for just the right moment to unleash them on the world’s supply of unsatisfied and horny women, in an effort to create genetically gifted, super hot babies with an affinity for the outdoors. Did anyone ever think to question that? No. They didn’t.

No one would ever expect good looking people to hail from Canada…our neutral, and historically inferior, neighbor to the North – a country who has given us Mike Meyers…

Seth Rogen…

Michael Cera…

…NOT one of whom I would ever grant sausage pocket privileges.

In all fairness, the Canucks did send Ryan Reynolds our way, but even he looks a little laden with Downs Sydrome every once in a while. The evidence has been proven time and again – Canada isn’t exactly breeding at a top-tier level…or so we thought. Well, cat’s out of the bag now and he’s just taken down a really big fish. It should be noted that this specimen of a fish hunter has a twin brother. What do you say to that?

I say come fishing in LA Mr. Canada…you’re bound to catch something. And if he can’t make it that far south, single ladies take note: Summer in Saskatchewan… It has a nice ring to it.

I attended a bachelorette party this past weekend for a great friend of mine. Celebrating comes easy to me – I’ll celebrate just about anything – birthdays, selling a script, a Piston’s win, the color green, Tuesdays, you catch my drift? I had the air conditioning fixed in my car last week. I celebrated that as well. So, needless to say, partying with my girlfriend in celebration of her upcoming nuptials came quite easily. Fourteen girls spent the weekend by the pool at the Viceroy, dining at great restaurants, learning to pole dance, ankle crunking at nightclubs, etc., all of which was wonderful. What wasn’t wonderful was the amount of douchebags roaming around LA. Their like our f-ing mascot. Granted, Hollywood imports a majority of these dickheads from the O.C., San Diego, and Redlands on the weekends, but nevertheless, they’re out there, and they’re wreaking havoc on our nightlife.

Take for instance, the three guys who were hanging out, a little too close for comfort, near our bachelorette’s table on Saturday night…They were, what I consider to be, the epitome of a Reject – and that’s me being nice.

Let me paint a really clear picture for you…They didn’t have a table, so they stood there, talking to each other, drooling over girls on the dance floor who wouldn’t give them the time of day. And most girls are whores, ready and willing to go home with almost anything, so you know this crew was bad news. They didn’t know assholes from elbows and they might as well have been standing there, holding each other’s mediocre pricks in their hands. I guess girls just aren’t attracted to overweight, Rogain-dependent, middle-aged Losers – go figure. We don’t care if you “work in real estate”, how much you can bench press, and your UCIrvine degree is NOT impressive. Did I mention, I towered over these guys (I’m 5’7”) and I’m pretty sure one of them had bigger tits than my sister, who has a pretty nice rack. I can say that because she’s my sister. Anyway, I know I don’t really come off this way, but I truly am sweet as sugar, and apparently very talkative when sloshed. So, I float over, champagne in hand and ask for a cig, figuring just this bit of conversation will make their night. I get a cig, they get attention from at least one person with a vagina – everybody wins. They claim they bummed theirs and have no more. Fine. No big deal. But as I walk away, I hear Douchebag #1 say “This place is really going downhill.” I whirl back around and see Douchbag #2 pull a pack of Parliments from his pocket. Ugh…DOOOOUUUUUCCCCCHHHHHEEEEBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAGGGGGG! I was trying to be nice by using them for a cigarette. (*btw, I only smoke when I’m drunk, Mom).

Let me just say, I consider myself to be kind of attractive – I’m no Jessica Alba or Sienna Miller, but I do alright. I wish I had said something right then, or slapped him, or stuck my stiletto in his eyeball, SWF style, but ever since an incident in college I’ve been trying to exercise self control, so instead I’ve decided to bitch about them on my blog, in hopes that this somehow finds it’s way to one of their corny, freaky, and pedophiliac myspace pages.

“Hey Douchebags – channeling King Reject himself, Brody Jenner, does not make you look cool, your studded jeans and Ed Hardy T-shirts are lame, using that much gel in your hair should be illegal and lay off the tanning beds for a bit – only LeeLo can pull off orange skin. Quit going to clubs. In fact, quit leaving your shithole apartments in general. There’s a reason why you’re all single and jacking each other off at night. And it’s not the quality of women surrounding you. Trust that. Why don’t you give up on your useless acting career – there are no roles for rejects with mantits – hop in your TransAm and go back to whatever low class, Floridian village you hail from. While you’re at it…when you see your mother this mother’s day, give her a slap across the face, from me, for raising such a toolbag. I’m pretty sure your dad’s are not around – and you can’t blame them – I would’ve split too, the second you hit puberty and I realized you were going to be a world class retard who never accomplishes a thing in life. The only thing going “downhill” is each of you on each other, because a little friendly tea-bagging from your “bros” is all the action you’re going to be able to get in life. Best of luck.”

*A note to all my friends…If you know these guys or even just know guys like this, please forward this on and make sure this important message is read by any and all douchebags out there.

“Cheaper than therapy…”

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Who am I...? Shit. Wow...Okay...I’m a USC graduate, originally from Michigan which is “somewhere in the middle”. I’m now living the “dream” in Los Angeles as a Screenwriter. I write comedy. My therapist says I arm myself with a wicked sense of humor for the sole purpose of avoiding true human connection… I think I just like to make people laugh. I pretend to read the New York Times, but I’m really only reading the captions which do a great job of summarizing the bullshit. I like to have to have my cake and eat it too. I'm not a morning person, but it's my favorite time of day. I don’t have pets because I am still concentrating on being able to feed, bathe and exercise myself. When I accomplish that, I’ll think about getting a dog. I love my family and enjoy rainy days and I had to look up the correct spelling of “exercise” while writing this bio. It’s nice to meet all of you…